


Anchor

by allonsysilvertongue



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 07:25:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14232255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsysilvertongue/pseuds/allonsysilvertongue
Summary: She was looking at him to pick up her shattered pieces and that thought alone shook him.Hayffie through Imagine Dragon's Next To Me.





	Anchor

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I was recently listening to Next To Me by Imagine Dragons and couldn't help but feel that this song is about hayffie so here you have it, a songfic! Just know that timeline is not in order.

 

** Anchor **

_Something about the way that you walked into my living room_ __  
Casually and confident lookin' at the mess I am  
But still you, still you want me  
Stress lines and cigarettes, politics, and deficits  
Late bills and overages, screamin' and hollerin'  
But still you, still you want me

Haymitch squinted. The bright glare of the sunlight streaming through the curtain someone had clearly parted open was making the throbbing in his head worse. He tried to speak – to demand that the curtain be pulled shut – but his mouth was dry and he couldn't form words. There was a cloud over his head, one he couldn't shake free to think.

He moaned instead, reaching out blindly to look for something – a blanket or cushion or a soiled shirt – to cover his face but his hand connected instead with something soft, warm and bony.

Haymitch blinked, trying to form coherent thoughts but it was a slow process. He glanced up and all the misery he felt vanished at the sight of her.

"Sweetheart," he slurred and he was sure he was grinning.

She wasn't. Her lips were pursed into a thin line and her jaw was set, but her eyes… She looked sad. His fingers that were curled around her ankle tightened.

"Haymitch," she sighed, freeing herself from his grip. She stood over him and surveyed the mess he made. "This simply won't do."

Then just like that, she was going around his living room cleaning after his mess. She threw empty bottles into a black trash bag; she fluffed old cushions and arranged them on the sofa; she discarded dirty clothes into the hamper and plates into the sink.

He could only watch as she moved around with the familiarity and confidence of someone who knew where things should be and ought to be. When she was done, she returned with a glass of water and a pill to help with his headache and sat next to him on the floor with her back against the sofa.

"I do not like seeing you like this," she told him.

He fumbled but managed to cover her hand with his own. Clumsily, he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, silently trying to temper her anger and soothe her.

"It's who I am," he shrugged.

"It's  _not_ ," she argued. She shook her hand free to reach for her cigarette and lighted it up right there in his living room. "You need to learn to  _live_."

He chuckled.

If only it was that easy…

He felt lost after the war, as if he had no purpose. For years, his life had been building up to the Rebellion; to help find the right spark and when the spark turned out to be one of  _his_  charges, he vowed to protect her and the boy because they were his to protect. Now it was all over and he did not know the role he should play.

Haymitch figured that sooner or later, Effie would be tired of this; she would be tired of coming to Twelve to find him passed out somewhere with his house in a mess; she would be tired of having to clean so it would be habitable for the entire week that she was visiting; she would be tired of them spending the week, depending on their mood, fucking and making love before she headed back to the City where she worked for President Paylor; she would be tired of waiting for him to tell her that he wanted something more instead of them acting as they were before the war; she would be tired of them arguing about inane things and her words falling on deaf ears.

He figured she would leave one day but he would always find her there, month after month after month.

 _Oh, I always let you down_  
You're shattered on the ground  
But still, I find you there next to me

She trusted him.

He knew that and yet, he couldn't even secure a passage for her to District Thirteen. He was a fool to think that she would be safe here in the Capitol. He was a fool to trust Plutarch and his equally banal associate.

He should have trusted his gut.

Haymitch brushed her hair away from her face, taking in the pale skin blotched with various bruises, the multiple bandages covering her wounds and the cast on her ankle. She might never be able to walk with heels again and while he thought that was a small price to pay for being alive, he knew she would still be upset.

The hours ticked by and between running to check on Katniss, Peeta and Effie, Haymitch was exhausted. He didn't realise he had fallen asleep on the armchair until he felt a weight settled on his laps. His eyes flew open and his breathing quickened, a thousand horrible thoughts crossing his mind.

"Stupid," he muttered. "You know to never do that. I could have hurt you."

She gazed up at him, looking helpless and loss.

Haymitch sighed but wrapped an arm around her and slowly, she rested her head on his shoulder. He had picked the smallest hospital gown for her and still, it hung off her frame. If that wasn't evident enough of the tremendous amount of weight she had lost, he barely felt a thing even with her now settled on his lap.

"Can't sleep?" he asked.

"Feel better this way," she answered, pressing her cold nose against his neck.

He couldn't understand how she could still seek solace from him when he had let her down and disappointed her. She was looking at him to pick up her shattered pieces and that thought alone shook him.

 _I got no innocence, faith ain't no privilege_  
I am a deck of cards, vice or a game of hearts  
And still you, still you want me

"I'm a monster," he spat in her face.

"So am I," she retorted, standing her ground. "Do not come and tell me you have blood on your hands because I do, too. Do you want to see which one of us is the bigger monster, then?"

He stomped away, not that he got far because she grabbed his arm. He yanked it free.

Effie side stepped him to block his path, shoved him back against the wall and kissed him hard.

"You are a difficult and silly man," she said, biting down on his lower lip. "But you are not driving me away with that drivel about being a monster. We are all guilty of something, Haymitch, but we are also loved by someone somewhere. Do we not deserve it?"

Was he deserving of that?

He didn't know. All he knew right then was that his fingers digging into her waist would leave a mark tomorrow.

"I got nothin', sweetheart. Nothing to offer you," he managed say in between kisses. "I'm just an old drunk with no more faith for the future left."

"You saved Katniss and Peeta. They lighted up the hope in you that you thought was long gone. Let me in, Haymitch," she begged. "Believe in me, in  _us_. We'll teach each other to feel alive."

He stared at her, this impossibly stubborn woman. She deserved far better and he couldn't understand the reason she kept coming back to him.

 _Shared history,_  a voice whispered.

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She had recently stopping wearing the wigs, and even if they were no longer some bright, obnoxious colours as they were before, he still preferred her this way with her blonde hair falling over her shoulders. She had let it grow over the months and she was beautiful.

"We need to get inside. Annie should be cutting Finn's cake soon," she sighed, stepping out of his embrace.

He lamented the loss of her warmth almost immediately.

But when she slipped her hand in his and tugged him forward, he followed. He should realise by now that despite the occasional self-loathing that he felt on bad days, it could never drive her away.

 _Oh, so thank you for taking a chance on me_  
I know it isn't easy  
But I hope to be worth it

"Sweetheart?"

The house was quiet which shouldn't be the case, not with two children in the house. Haymitch unwrapped his scarf and shrugged off his coat to hang them on the hooks by the wall that he had only put up two weeks ago after Effie's nagging had become too much to bear.

He poked his head into the living room only smiled at the sight.

The eight year old Finn was sprawled on his back on the floor with the television still turned on to one of his favourite cartoons. Effie was curled on the sofa with little Willow Mellark tucked safely by her side.

That would explain the peace and quiet.

To get the children to take an afternoon nap was a difficult thing to do on his own but this was Effie so he shouldn't really be surprised. She could accomplish anything she sat her mind to.

Depending on when they took the nap, he figured he would at least have another hour or so before one of the children wakes up.

He deposited the grocery on the kitchen counter and started on the snacks. He had prepared it with Effie a few times now to know what to do. When he was done, he brought the plates laden with cookies, fresh milk and hot tea out into the living room.

Haymitch kept away the toys, stack the books nicely on the coffee table and folded the blankets that he had used to make a fort with Finn earlier.

"You're back."

"Hey," he greeted. He walked over to where she was slowly stretching to press a quick kiss on her lips, "cookies and milk for the brats, strawberry tea for you all on the table."

"Oh, Haymitch," she smiled. "I made you take the trip to Town -"

"I even cleaned," he said proudly.

"Oh, you did!" she marvelled. "And you prepared snacks for them all by yourself…."

"I wouldn't have if it wasn't for you."

"Is that so?"

"They're lucky I'm fond of their grandmother," he shrugged.

She laughed and pulled him down for a kiss to thank him for all his efforts. She didn't have to, not when  _he_  should count his lucky stars to have her with him. Effie was always there in nearly every chapter of his life and his only desire is to make it worth for her.


End file.
